


ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn't've)

by RKIVEAUS



Category: LOONA (Korea Band), TWICE (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Demon Son Hyejoo | Olivia Hye, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Faerie Im Nayeon, Faerie Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Faerie Kim Jiwoo | Chuu, Familiar Heejin, Familiar Park Jimin, Gashadokuro Son Chaeyoung, Green Witch Hirai Momo, Incubus Kim Seokjin | Jin, Kitsune Jeon Jungkook, Kitsune Kim Hyunjin, M/M, Multi, Old Old vampire yoon, Plant Girl Viian Wong | ViVi, Vampire Jung Jinsol, Vampire Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip, Vampire Kim Namjoon | RM, Vampire Min Yoongi | Suga, Witch Kim Dahyun, Witch Kim Taehyung | V, baby vampire joon, hopefully, lots of fantasy n magic, momo and dahyun run a shop n taejin and chaeyoung are their kids, some internalised homophobia though, the rest will probs appear later, think those are all the main characters, we are just vibing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:00:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22215223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RKIVEAUS/pseuds/RKIVEAUS
Summary: Being a vampire included a lot of things, being really old and really powerful, dark clothes, dramatic exits...Getting chained underneath a chapel for 80 years and then turning a really hot almost-priest into a vampire. You know...the normal stuff.So Yoongi would say that yes, he was the average vampire, he just happened to get into a bit of trouble from time to time.
Relationships: Ha Sooyoung | Yves/Minatozaki Sana/Jo Haseul, Hirai Momo/Kim Dahyun, Jeon Heejin/Kim Hyunjin, Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip, Kim Jiwoo | Chuu/Son Hyejoo | Olivia Hye, Kim Namjoon | RM/Min Yoongi | Suga, Son Chaeyoung/Viian Wong | ViVi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn't've)

Chapter one: Namjoon, Yoongi

Namjoon’s feet pattered down the narrow stairs of a modest Seoul church’s basement; whilst it lacked the gradiose of the ancient cathedrals of Southern Europe, this place had become a safe haven for Namjoon. He loved being able to sit in the pews and admire the intricate stained glass artwork whilst he prayed or studied the Lord's teachings, and hoped that one day, soon, he would be able to lead a congregation here. He hoped that in being able to bring people closer to God, he would be brought closer to God too, hoped that God might cure him of his sinful affliction, hoped that his thoughts would be made holy and untarnished by a lust that both society and the Bible said was evil. 

Today he wasn’t here to lead a congregation though, today he was venturing into the bowels of the church, away from the nave and transept where he had first found solace in God, away from the sanctum where his mentor, Father Jisung, would recite the Bible with him, away from all familiarity. 

The church boasted a rather large vault under the main building, containing a crypt and sepulchre stylised from ancient Italian cathedrals; carved stone walls formed the many catacomb-style hallways leading to the wrought-iron-gated rooms that were the final resting places of so many. Currently Namjoon was headed towards a room he had been briefly warned against when he first began his apprenticeship. He had been down here once before, with Father Jisung, and when Namjoon had gone to turn down into a narrower, less well lit, corridor his mentor had taken a sharp breath in and gestured for him to continue straight ahead instead. The warning about not entering ‘The Room’ came not two minutes later. 

As Namjoon turned into the corridor, he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sudden change in light; most of the crypt and sepulchre of the church’s vault had been fitted with LED lighting a while ago: it seemed that this particular hall had been exempt from the renovations. The only light source was coming from further down, and as Namjoon approached it he realised what it was; behind another gate, that seemed to be wrought from silver rather than the iron all the other gates in the vault were made of, was a room illuminated with the light of hundreds of lit candles. 

The room itself was small, barely 5 foot across and 6 foot upwards, but the floor was divided into three sections; the black marble floor that spanned the length of the room was bisected by a small vertical length of the same stone that made up the hallways. It was in essence, a stone path between the marble that held seemingly hundreds of melting wax candles; all lit and painstakingly positioned on the floor space. So enraptured was Namjoon with the dancing flames of the candles, that it took him a minute to notice the back wall of the room was not a wall at all; two threadbare red curtains were hung up across the back of the room, obscuring any view of what could possibly lay behind them. 

“What?” Namjoon muttered to himself. He was confused. Confused as to the purpose of the mysterious room that lay in front of him, the candles that cast dancing shadows of his form on the wall behind him, and the frayed red curtains. 

He was intrigued though, and, with a grunt, turned the handle and pulled the gates that barred his entrance to the mysterious room open. Stepping inside, he hurried to reach the curtains. When he had, he stopped momentarily and took in how old it seemed; whilst the fabric might’ve once been rich and plush there wasn’t a trace of that left. Dust clung to it like a magnet and, in some places, was so thick the curtains original colour was barely visible under a sheet of grey. 

This looks like it hasn’t been touched in decades Namjoon thought, hesitantly pulling the curtain across. 

He wasn’t wrong.

Drawing one of the curtains open, a cloud of dust rose up, temporarily obscuring the view behind it. Whilst it was settling, Namjoon was temporarily incapacitated with a fit of coughing, and was too disoriented by the dust he had just inhaled to properly take in his surroundings. 

Once the dust had settled he looked around inquisitively. The room was dark, the only lighting coming from the candlelight that entered the room through the gap in the curtains just behind him. 

Stepping to the side so as to let the light pass in further without his shadow blocking it, Namjoon gasped slightly at what the light streaming in illuminated like a spotlight. It was a large rectangular box, large enough to hold a full grown man. Upon closer inspection he was sure that it most probably was, seeing as the object in question was now obviously visible as a coffin. 

“Hello?” 

Namjoon barely held back a yelp when he heard a voice come from said coffin, stumbling a bit and falling backwards in shock. 

“Is anyone there? Heaven's sake please get me out of here, it's been a dreadfully long time since I’ve been able to move my arms and I fear they’ve just about rotted off by now.” The voice spoke again. Namjoon looked at the coffin incredulously at the language it was speaking. It was Korean, but it was old Korean, so old that it sounded straight out of a movie, but the speaker was so fluent that Namjoon didn’t really think he was faking. 

“Who are you?” Namjoon asked shakily, standing back up and moving to the silver prison that seemingly held, from what he could tell by the voice, a man. There was a strange air of danger, alarm bells blaring in his head much like those one would get when staring down a dark hallway or being approached by a stranger in the bleakness of the night. 

Of course those feelings and moments of terror can be responsible for a dusting of curiosity as well. There’s a strange noise coming from a dark hall and yes it instills a fear in you that is immeasurable, but yet, you’ll find yourself wondering what made the noise. Was it an animal or some sort of beast? Was it a monster? Or are you simply going mad? Often times, it seems, upon having your curiosity quenched, you’ll find yourself wishing that madness was your answer. 

Curiosity killed the cat. His inner voice chided him as he moved closer. 

“Min Yoongi. Are you a foreigner? Your Korean is graceless to say the least.” The voice said, causing Namjoon to hesitate in his path for his second as he processed the insulting words. 

“No, I was born in Ilsan-”

“The farming district? No wonder your accent is so thick.” 

“Look here asshole, do you want to get out or not?” Namjoon shot back, slapping his hands over his mouth as he processed his own words, sending a quick prayer to God to forgive him for swearing. He’d been speaking with this man for barely a minute and he was already going against some of his most fundamental morals. 

Do to others as you would have them do unto you. Namjoon recited mentally, determined not to slip up again. 

“Refusing aid to a stranger? In a house of God? I may not be up to date on whatever your religion actually believes, but I believe that goes against His word” the voice quipped, and then hurriedly added, a little desperately:

“But yes, please get me out of here if you can, it’s horribly cramped.” . 

Namjoon touched the latch and noticed it was shiny and heavy… it looked like silver. Hell, now that his sole focus wasn’t on the voice emanating from the coffin he realised the whole vessel looked like silver. That made the alarm bells in Namjoons head ring even louder, something didn’t feel right. Why would a man be locked in a metal coffin nearly fifty feet below the church in a room that Namjoon had been warned against entering? Why did he sound so traditional? There were so many questions swimming through his mind, yet, Namjoon didn’t think twice about it before unlatching the coffin and lifting the top up. 

If someone asked you how to picture sin, how would you picture it? Most people’s minds would instantly think of lust, of a person of great and terrible beauty. Long eyelashes, glittering eyes and flawless glass skin. Can you see them? 

Namjoon certainly could. If asked to describe sin, he would look no further than the man lying in front of him. He was beautiful in an unearthly way. He was beautiful in the way one could describe art or the sparkling night sky. In fact, he was the night sky, his hair was long and black, falling in soft curls around full, rounded, cheeks that were pale as the moon. These features in itself were not quite sin, flawless and pure as glass, but his eyes, deep red and haunting that gave him away. The gentle angelic nature of his face startled out of skew by the piercing eyes of which held Namjoons gaze, unwavering, unrelenting. 

Until, suddenly, everything was a blur. Strong arms holding him tight and a sharp pain in his neck, dulling his senses, everything fading to black. 

And then he was floating.

Aimless, in a pool of darkness, utterly relaxed, released from the confines of the world and his own mind, responsible for nothing, tasked with nothing, just… floating. And he was happy. 

~

Yoongi drank from the stranger like he was starving, which, in all fairness, he was. Before long he felt the man’s blood begin to diminish as it became harder and harder to draw blood from the man that had set him free, but that wasn’t quite what stopped him. 

He saved you. 

“I’m well aware.” Yoongi snapped at nothing but his own conscience, a voice he had been alone with for decades. It was a miracle he hadn’t been driven mad. Yet, he supposed, madmen are the ones most sure they are sane. 

He saves you and this is his reward? And yet you say you are not the monster they made you out to be. 

The thought froze Yoongi cold. 

He wasn’t a monster, he knew he wasn’t. Technically yes, he was, but in mind, he was nothing like those beasts, those vile humans that some were so quick to compare him to. He had killed yes, but only people so seethingly evil that their deaths could be seen as a public service. He knew this, yet he took that moment to look at his savior, truly look at him. A young man, no older than 24 years old with a strange light behind his eyes that was quickly fading. A light he had seen fade once before, despite his best efforts. Could he do it? Condemn this man to such a violent death? To an eternity as an angry spirit forever trapped in the basement of the chapel? Alone and forgotten just as Yoongi had been. 

In the moment that he had hesitated, a soft groan came from the man, still anonymous to Yoongi. Small, soft breaths came from the man, he was struggling to stay alive, to regain consciousness, his eyes, dark brown and pleading, met Yoongi's. 

He couldn’t do it. 

But it was too late, far too late to save his life. But- 

Yoongi acted fast, knowing he didn’t have long until the stranger was beyond his reach, at risk of becoming a nasty poltergeist, or worst, a ghoul. He swiftly sunk his sharp incisors into his own wrist, feeling dissatisfied when the blood only welled up. He needed more, it took a lot to turn someone, especially someone this far gone. And if he slipped up? If he made one mistake? Both of them would be dead, Yoongi, twice over. 

“Heavens sakes-,” Yoongi dug his teeth even further into the tendons and muscles of his wrist, gnawing and tearing until he finally sliced through his veins, causing a geyser of crimson to cascade down his arm, and into Namjoons mouth.  
“Drink it please, we don't have all millenia. Well… I do, but you don’t so I would hurry.” He said, attempting to use humour to help dissipate the heavy feeling in his stomach, it didn’t exactly make the situation any better, if anything, he felt a twinge guilty. 

The man groaned softly, nearly swallowing the liquid that had made it to his mouth, but then groaning and making an attempt to spit it out, which made Yoongi clamp a hand over the humans mouth.

“Listen, you either drink this and be angry with me for eternity, or you don’t and you won’t have an eternity to be angry with me. Maybe thirty seconds at most, a minute if you’re lucky.” He hissed. The man seemed to calm down a bit, although tense, and Yoongi removed his hand once he heard him swallow. 

“It shouldn’t take long for the effe-Oh!” Yoongi gasped when the man grabbed his wrist and pressed it further onto his mouth, tearing into it with his teeth because Yoongi’s skin had begun to stitch back together.  
*  
It was dark, and warm. You would think death was cold, but it wasn’t, it was warm, and sleepy, and Namjoon was so very tempted to just close his eyes and rest. Well he was until he felt something sharp and wet hit his tongue, instinctively he wanted to swallow, it was like his body was calling for it, craving it even. But he stopped himself when, through the fog, he realized the sharp metallic taste was in fact blood. 

“Listen, you either drink this and be angry with me for eternity, or you don’t and you won’t have an eternity to be angry with me. Maybe thirty seconds at most, a minute if you’re lucky.” 

That voice, the man's voice, dare he call him a man. Namjoon knew in his core, in his infinitely precious human soul that the man was no man, but a monster. A being that had stolen Namjoons life without a second thought. Except now, it seemed that this non-man was trying to save him, to bring him back from the endlessly floating blackness of death. All he had to do was drink. The question then became, not if Namjoon could but if he truly wanted to. In the abyss there was serenity of which he had always searched for but never come to know. In the abyss he has nor responsibilities or tasks, he had no one to impress or sins to hide, he was not sinner nor saint, not human nor beast, not gay nor straight. He was simply floating, and there needed no more thought than that. 

But through the peace of this void, something was drawing him back to the surface, a sense of purpose that he had not felt in his life before, a feeling that it was not yet his time to escape the confines of the human psyche, that he needed to remain on earth, for just a little bit longer. 

So he swallowed. And with that swallow came a fire in his throat, a dry hot searing thirst, burning through his body like flame to a forest. With every swallow of blood the liquid had satiated his thirst but simultaneously tripled it. He felt himself clamping down harder on the mans wrist, trying to quench this terrible, insatiable hunger. It was blinding, he couldn’t breathe nor speak because of the white hot flames licking through his body, determined to burn him if he did not drink more from his pale assailant. He didn’t remember moving but suddenly the man was on his knees, head tilted aside while Namjoon tore through flesh and tendons to drink heavily from the man’s jugular. What once was a sharp, unpalatable taste became sweeter and heavier, the flavor was inexplicable, like mulled wine and strawberries with the scent of cinnamon and oh!- His senses exploded in a symphony of sounds, smells, textures and flavors. The scent of the dungeon room was mossy and sharp in contrast to the cinnamon and dark chocolate cocktail coming off of the pale man's skin. There was so much hitting him at once that he was reeling, completely overwhelmed by the sudden intake of the world around him. Everything was so loud, he could hear the staff walking above with heavy footsteps despite the fact that he couldn’t even hear such things prior to the incident. 

Namjoon was so distracted by the overdose of senses that was hitting him, that he didn’t notice the footsteps that stopped abruptly not even twenty feet away from them.

“Oh my god.” 

A hushed voice spoke from the entrance to the room. A hushed voice belonging to a priest, who was staring at the sight in horror. And what a sight it was. Namjoon, the soon to be priest, was hunched over, sucking at the neck of Yoongi, the dangerous monster that every priest that had ever belonged to the church knew not to let out, or even acknowledge, aside from when inducting a new priest. His dark red eyes gleamed against the moonlight pouring in from the small windows of the room, making his milky skin glow, completely flawless, so much so that it was unsettling to the human eye. 

Funny enough, it wasn’t Namjoon, the newborn vampire that was tearing into his sires throat that scared the man, it was Yoongi; not because of the stories he had been told, or his appearance really, it was his eyes. They danced smugly across his face, like he knew something that the priest didn’t. They were almost taunting him, so much so that he could hear the laughter in his head, louder and louder, driving him mad until- 

Yoongi was dropped unceremoniously to the floor as Namjoon, who’s sole focus had previously been Yoongi’s neck, became aware of third presence in the room. He tried to hold back, he really did, but the sound of his heart thumping, the blood rushing through his veins, getting faster and faster the morse scared he became- it was too much, he couldn’t think past his scorching thirst and before he knew it he was digging into the throat of his former mentor. 

“Took you long enough,” The man gurgled out, his throat stitching itself back together while Namjoon fed on the human that was stupid enough to walk into the room. Everyone knew not to get close to a new or transitioning vampire, they’re known to stick their teeth into anything that moved, especially scared humans. It was a bit of a dirty trick Yoongi did, instilling fear into the human so his heart rate could pick up, something he knew damn well would send Namjoon into a frenzy. 

Namjoons head slowly but surely began to clear, the priest’s blood was different than the other man’s: more addictive, more… satisfying. The burn in his throat began to subside enough for his head to clear so he could finally think past his thirst. As his head cleared, his vision came into focus and he blinked only to see his mentor, Father Jisung, lying on the floor, not even bloody because Namjoon had drained him completely dry. 

He didn’t even know what to focus on at this point. Father Jisung was dead, not only that but he had killed him, bit into his neck and drained the man of his life’s essence without a blink of an eye. 

“I- oh…” Namjoon stood up and backed away from the pale body, as if running would bring him back to life, as if closing his eyes would resolve Namjoon of any responsibility. 

I did this. The phrase repeating over and over in Namjoons mind like a terrorizing symphony of self loathing and regret. 

I killed him. Over and over and over again, dipping and weaving through his mind, scrambling his brain, causing panic to rise in his throat like bile as he met the glassy eyes of his former mentor. 

“Don’t beat yourself up too much, what’s life if you haven’t drained a priest or two?” The man said, his throat was somehow unmarred, despite Namjoon having drank from it not minutes before; it was flawless, just like the rest of him. 

Namjoon turned to look at him in horror. Who could make jokes in such a situation as this? He had just killed a man in a house of God. He had just killed a man. And it was the man that had taught him everything, that had brought clarity and meaning to his life… he was dead, and this monster was laughing at him. 

“A man is dead and you make jokes?”

“Well, technically two men.” He said nonchalantly, standing up and brushing the dust off of his clothing. Namjoon had expected him to be wearing some sort of traditional Hanbok since everything about him was quite ancient, but he was actually wearing some sort of military uniform, old, but not ancient, one that Namjoon definitely saw in Captain America: The First Avenger. Not that he could really focus on that when he was trying to piece together the implications of the man's words. He let out a very weak, “what?” Even though, deep down, he knew. He knew what the stranger was saying. 

“Normally, I would sit you down and explain the complexities of being a newborn vampire, allow you to grieve and accept that you most certainly despise me for turning you. But, to be frank, we do not have much time before the rest of the congregation catches up on the events that have transpired in the bowels of this chapel so I suggest you get it all out and quickly.”

“What the hell did you do to me?”

“I saved your life,” The man said firmly, shrugging at the burning hole Namjoon was staring into his skull. “Okay fine, not really” he revised, “but you’re still alive in one way or another-” 

Without a second thought Namjoon was towering over the elder vampire with a rage so unlike himself that it was startling. His hand was gripped around the other man's throat and in an instant he had slammed him into the stone wall, cracks forming around the other from the impact. 

“The last time someone had me in this position there was quite a spectacle to follow with a lot less clothing than we have on at the moment, can I look forward to a repeat performance from you?” The man winked with a smirk on his lips which was more than enough to completely throw Namjoon off, jumping away from the man like he was a hot iron skillet. He couldn't help the bitter taste of disgust that rose in his throat, and clearly, it had shown on his face because the man had dropped his smirk, looking somewhat upset. And well… for a moment Namjoon felt guilt, for his behavior, the man could not help his affliction, Namjoon would know that better than most. 

“To answer your question. You were dying, and it was too late to save your human life so I turned you into a vampire. If you are angry with me I expect nothing less, but let it be outside of this self-proclaimed ‘holy place’ because, as I've mentioned, we do not have much time.” The man said, moving towards the exit and beckoning for Namjoon to follow. 

Namjoon didn’t know how to even begin to process this information. He supposed that he should be angry, but he wasn’t..He was scared. Not because of the man with the red eyes and blood stained lips, but because it was over for him. His soul was corrupted, he was no longer a lawful man, in fact he wasn't a man at all. He was a monster. A creature of the night, of sin, a daemon that lived only to corrupt the lives of those around them without restraint or mercy. And there was no place in heaven for creatures like him. 

Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe, if you repent, God will forgive you, he will save your soul. 

Could he? Could he really? He had already killed a man..But he hadn’t meant to, he really hadn’t he simply couldn’t control himself. Maybe God would understand. Yet, it felt like it would take much more than a confession to redeem himself in the Lord's eyes. 

The least he could do was try. 

*

They had nearly reached the silver gate Namjoon had left open when he’d catalysed Yoongi’s bid for freedom, when he noticed a certain recently deceased individual was no longer following him. Instead, the newborn vampire was on his knees staring up at a large statue of 

“Must I remind you again why I would rather not end up with silver buried in my skull, Mr… ?” Yoongi said irritably, aware that whilst Namjoon had probably had a significant portion of his life's beliefs upended in minutes and hadn't had time to process any of these changes, he really wanted to be out of this church. Namjoon, in turn, stared at him silently with a pained expression.

“Kim Namjoon. And I’m not leaving.” 

“Well yes I can see that Sherlock Holmes, care to explain why?” Yoongi was completely and totally exasperated, deep within him he wondered if it would have been less trouble to just mercy kill the man and be about his way. 

“I don’t want this. I would rather stay here and spend my final moments asking the Lord for forgiveness.” Namjoon said, defeat and shame heavy in his eyes that scorched Yoongi to his core with anger. Yes, as record goes he had always had a bit of a short fuse, but he had never gotten so angry so quickly before. Maybe, it was because he saw so much of his young self in the man before him. 

“Forgiveness from what exactly? Please explain to me in your shattered, warped ideas of logic what, pray tell, the fuck circumvents this sort of punishment?” Yoongi snapped, cutting Namjoon off with an outburst of irritance at the man's ignorance. He was sick and tired of the hatefulness that this place pumped out. He should have burned it, and everyone inside, to the ground the moment he had come there. 

“You made me a monster, a creature of sin-”

“I made you nothing more than a vampire, the only thing that can make you a monster is yourself and please stop deflecting your own dissatisfaction with yourself onto me. I understand you may be upset about the change that has taken place which you have every right to, but to condemn yourself to death over a life you have not yet lived is something I will not allow to happen in my presence.” He said firmly, stepping up to Namjoon and staring at him in a challenge. He hadn’t been taking very much of the situation too seriously but now he was. He was much too old and much too powerful to waste time in a screaming match with someone who was most likely three hundred years his junior. 

“Then fucking leave.” Namjoon shot back, challenge met by defiance fueled by nothing but hatred. Hatred for the man, and himself, alive as well as undead. The air in the room was so taut with tension that Namjoon believed for a second that he wouldn’t have to wait for a member of the church to find and kill him, because Yoongi would do it himself. 

He was half right. He didn’t have to wait around for the church to kill him, yes, but that was simply because Yoongi had elected to connect his fist with Namjoons skull at such a force that the sound of his skull fracturing echoed throughout the church, successfully knocking him out cold. 

“I’m too old for this.” Yoongi grumbled to himself, grunting slightly as he dragged Namjoons unconscious form up and slug it over a shoulder as he finally made to exit the church. He knew the man would hate him even more now that he had essentially kidnapped him but in the moment, Yoongi really couldn’t care less. 

Following the signs in the church’s catacominous hallways to it’s exit, Yoongi was seriously regretting bringing his saviour along with him. Did vampires have super strength? Yes. Would that strength be affected by being able to move or feed for an unidentifiable amount of time? Seemingly so, Yoongi thought, frustratedly supporting the 130 pound man on his shoulders. 

Trudging up the steps into the nave, Yoongi blinked a little; even the candlelight in his place of captivity and the oddly bright square lights in the vaults hallways hadn’t prepared him for the brightness of real sunlight for so long. Streaming in through the stained glass windows, he stopped for a second to let his eyes adjust, seeing such bright light after so long helped the reality of the situation finally set in. He was finally free. Grinning, he walked to the grand oaken doors of the church, the weight on his shoulders suddenly much more bearable. As he approached the doors, that had been propped open so the public could walk in freely, the sunlight was much brighter than that of the filtered light passing through stained glass, and he was temporarily blinded. It wasn’t until he had made it to the egress that he could see what awaited him outside. He stopped dead in shock. 

Yoongi had no idea how long he’d been locked up by the church; he had tried to keep a count of days at first, but with no sunlight to separate the days, they had stretched into weeks and months indefinitely. He had assumed maybe a decade of his life had been wasted in the darkness but, as he looked out of the church's entrance, still supporting the unconscious vampire at his side, he realised it must’ve been a lot longer. 

This is not the world I left, Yoongi thought. There was no way it could be the same place. 

The noise was cacophonous; a symphony of noises bombarded Yoongi; noises from pedestrians walking in front of the church, noises from the small boxes many were carrying, noises emanating from store fronts opposite the church, and noises from whatever occupied the road - were those automobiles? 

A disturbance from behind him shook him from his reverie; in his state of shock he had forgotten about the immediate threat that the church posed to him. He hurried out of the church, into the biting wind of this unfamiliar city. 

As he stepped in to the wind, he was suddenly hit by the overwhelming scent it carried; the scent of human blood. It hit him like a brick wall. He didn’t remember the surrounding area being this populated and despite the fact he had fed, barely one human's life blood for who knows how long… he was ravenous. 

He faltered for a moment, his knees giving out as he hit the ground and shuddered violently, feeling the burning thirst intensify tenfold. He just needed to make it to the portal and pray to all the gods that it still worked, if it didn’t and Yoongi went into a frenzy, it wasn’t likely to be a pretty scene. 

Yoongi held his breath and picked Namjoon up, running as fast and hard as he could towards where he remembered the park was, praying that, unlike the rest of this strange place, it hadn’t changed. One street across and there is was; there were now gates around it’s entrance but inside it was still green, a vast assortment of trees were littered around. Yoongi slowed a little, looking around with his sharp eyes for a particular weeping willow. As he strode further into the trees, he saw it. 

It was huge, and nearly as old as him. It's branches swayed in an ethereal way and the tree itself seemed to shimmer out of time, like it wasn’t quite of this world. Yoongi slowed down even more as he came closer to the tree, making sure not to startle it. Momo was very clear on this, most plantlife, especially trees, were old souls. They were powerful beyond comprehension, very aware and required the utmost respect, you wouldn't get far in the supernatural world without understanding that.  
“Hello,” Yoongi kneeled, bowing his head to the entity as he spoke, feeling it's magickal energy surround him in a tingling sensation as he began to speak. 

“My name is Min Yoongi, I am a friend to Hirai Momo, the witch that created this portal inside of you. I request safe passage for myself and the newborn vampire Kim Namjoon through this portal.” 

That was another thing about old spirits like this, they did not like to beat around the bush. If you were not direct with them you wouldn’t get anywhere. Fortunately, they were more forgiving than say, Faeries. They were much more tricky, and, unlike Yoongi had just done with the tree, you absolutely never gave your full name to under any circumstances.

Yoongi waited a moment and sighed quietly in relief when the tingling sensation grew warm and intensified. He didn’t know if the tree remembered him or not but warmth always meant trust with plants. And if he had this trees trust, it meant it would let him access the portal. 

“Thank you.” He murmured, pressing his hand against it's trunk and feeling the rough bark melt away as it was replaced with a scintillating liquid, swirling, inviting and tinted with a vaguely violet light. He waited until all six foot of the tree’s trunk looked like this, a column of shifting light and the portal was fully open. 

He stood up, Namjoon in his arms, and stepped through the shimmering purple portal that felt like he was being submerged in a thick, warm, liquid. He couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious, tightening his grip around the man in his arms. He was partially afraid of what the witches, Dahyun in particular, would do to him when they realize he brought a highly unstable newborn vampire into their shop. Then again, he had done it before and they absolutely adored Jinsoul and Jungeun, so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. 

Yoongi looked down at the man and furrowed his brow, thinking of the man's relation with the church as the light grew brighter, signalling the end of their trip. He could only hope, or he would have a few pissed off witches on his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> chapter one down, many to go !! this has been our shared google docs for about a year n we finally decided to publish it! Updates will happen whenever possible without a solid schedule but we're both so excited to finally share this !!  
> find us on twt: @knjsrat and@chhuuwu


End file.
